Silent Night
by Seshat3
Summary: A Christmas Story for my readers, and my Muse. Merry Christmas to all!


_A/N: The author of this work does not in any way profit from the story. All creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s). __**CSI:Crime Scene Investigation**__ is the property of CBS_

_This story is my gift, to you my readers. To my regular commenters and my silent fans. To those who have encouraged me and supported me. _

_But __**most of all**__, and most importantly, this story is for my friend and muse, __**Stokes4Me**__. You have no idea how hard it was to keep this a secret! My friend, this is my Christmas present to you. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your unwavering faith in me and your unfailing awesomeness. I hope, I wish, I pray for a silent night for you this holiday season. _

_This story takes place sometime after Season Six on a day set a week or two before Christma,. I meant to publish earlier this month but time, and life got in the way._

**Silent Night**

"Sleigh bells ring…da da dee dum, mmm hmmm hmmm…." Nick hummed under his breath as the song played on; almost wishing Vegas _were _a winter wonderland. But then, that would make driving to crimes scenes rather difficult, never mind processing them, so he supposed it was alright they weren't getting snow.

Standing in the living room, surrounded by boxes and a smattering of pine needles, he was busy placing strands of fairy lights on the tree. He worked quickly, occasionally breaking into song along with Frank Sinatra or Bing Crosby. It was his favourite Christmas CD, one he listened to every year.

As he worked a distant clang caught his attention and he glanced out the window to see the mailman walking past. Seeing the flag up on the mailbox he draped the last of the strand on the tree then headed outside, shivering as the chill December air swirled around him when he opened the door.

The pavement was cold and seemed to seep through his socks as he minced down the path. Grabbing the bundle of mail he hurried back into the house.

Junk, bill, bill, junk, library reminder, junk, Christmas card. Tossing the junk onto the kitchen table he opened the card.

'To Nick and Greg' it read above a generic holiday greeting. Following that, a barely legible scrawl read 'To the first of many. Merry Christmas, Love Olaf.'

Nick smiled as he carried the card to the mantle and propped it up. Greg would be pleased, he thought as he went back to the tree, picking up another string of lights and continuing his decorating.

He had just finished the last of the lights when he heard Greg's car pull up. Soon after he heard a banging at the front door, as if someone were kicking it instead of knocking on it.

"You lose your key again?" Nick teased as he opened the door.

"No, but I could use another pair of hands," Greg quipped. He carried a box in his arms with a number of bags dangling from both hands.

"Sorry man," Nick said as he grabbed the box from Greg and carried it to the kitchen.

"Where did you get this?" he asked.

"Cath leant it to me," Greg answered as he followed Nick, shivering in his coat. "Or, I think she gave it to me. She said not to bother bringing it back."

"Never used huh?" Nick mused. "Can't say I'd use one either," he added as he took the crockpot out of its box and placed it on the counter.

"Trust me," Greg said with a mysterious smile as he began emptying bags.

Nick smiled and moved closer to plant a kiss on Greg's cheek before moving back into the living room and continuing with the tree. Within minutes the house was full of the scent of cinnamon and cloves. Nick took a deep breath, inhaling the particular scent that always evoked the feeling of Christmas, warm and spicy and somehow peaceful and homey.

The clatter of dishes coming from the kitchen was soothing to Nick as he draped ropes of tinsel around the tree, arranging them so they would glisten and glitter when the lights were turned on. Humming softly to the music playing, he didn't notice Greg come up behind him.

"Almost done?" Greg asked.

Nick yelped then laughed. "Yeah," he answered then turned. Catching sight of Greg, Nick laughed again.

"What?" Greg pouted. "I think it's fetching!" He continued with a flourish, twirling around to display the rope of gold tinsel, draped around his arms like a boa.

"You look great," Nick conceded.

"Why thank you," Greg said then winked. "Is that a candy cane in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh you know what I got is better than any candy cane," Nick laughed as he opened a box of ornaments.

Greg simply laughed before prancing to the stereo, turning Nick's CD off and plugging in his MP3 player. Pressing play he danced back to the tree and began hanging baubles with a flourish, still wearing his tinsel boa.

Together they made short work of decorating the tree, the final flourish a glittery angel to top their creation. Nick stepped back and had to admit, the tree looked good. Greg had thrown his decorations on haphazardly, while Nick had placed his with care. But somehow, the overall effect of chaos amidst order, combined to create something unique, and something entirely _theirs_.

"Lunch?" Greg suggested.

"Mmm yeah, I'm starving," Nick replied.

Over a simple lunch of hearty soup and bread rolls, they shared Christmas memories and stories about their respective traditions. Although it was their second Christmas as a couple, it was their first celebrating it together and they were making the most of it. They lingered at the table, enjoying the company and conversation on this rare time off together.

Outside the sky was a steely grey, the sun watery and weak. Inside however, was warm and cozy. Eventually, Nick and Greg cleaned up their lunch dishes then continued to decorate the rest of the living room while the music played on.

The afternoon passed pleasantly, peacefully, and as evening fell they lit a fire and sat back to admire their handiwork.

The tree twinkled in the firelight, tinsel glistening and baubles shining. Icicle lights in the window cast a golden glow over the room, while a strand of greenery and holly graced the mantle.

Greg's mulled wine was suitably mulled and they had shared a couple of mugs, idly chatting or falling silent as their mood took them. Eventually, Greg had fallen asleep, stretched out with his head on Nick's lap. Nick stared into the fire, fingers idly petting through Greg's hair, his free hand still gripping his mug of mulled wine.

The playlist Greg had put together was sheer genius. It had begun with fun, loud and sometimes raucous Christmas songs, and gradually, almost imperceptibly mellowed so that now the soft, lilting strains of Silent Night drifted languidly in the room, sung by Swedish choir with ethereal, angelic voices.

A silent night was Nick's most fervent wish, though he knew Christmas was the wrong time to wish for it. Without a shadow of doubt there would be more murder, more domestic violence, more robberies and muggings, more suicides than at any other time of the year. Though Nick looked forward to Christmas every year, he certainly did not look forward to the crime wave that came with it.

He sighed as he looked down to contemplate Greg's face, firelight flickering across the younger man's features. He looked around the living room, at the tree with its twinkling lights and glittering tinsel. He squinted a little to make the lights dance then chuckled; he hadn't done that since he was a kid. Smiling, Nick took a deep breath to take in the spicy fragrance of evergreen and mulled wine, cinnamon and orange and cloves. It was the scent of Christmas.

Suddenly his spirits lifted. Here, in the comfort of their home, he and Greg had created their own peace on earth.

The fire popped and he jumped involuntarily, fingers tightening in Greg's hair. Greg stirred then stretched with eyes half open.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he murmured drowsily.

Nick set his mug on the table beside the couch before he answered truthfully.

"Just enjoying the peace, Greg. Go back to sleep," he whispered, running his fingers through Greg's hair. Greg smiled then shifted, turning onto his side so he faced the fire.

Nick laid his head back and stretched his toes out, the fire was burning low but the heat remained in the room, enveloping and soothing.

As the song, the lullaby that was Silent Night, played to its last line, Nick drifted into sleep, completely and utterly at peace.

***

_A/N: Merry Christmas!__ As usual __Comments/Reviews adored!_


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